Mother's Day in Montego Bay: Reclaiming My Groove, My Peace, My Power

Just the sound of it—Mother's Day Getaway to Montego Bay—makes me smile. But behind that sweet-sounding title is a story soaked in heartache, healing, and hard-won hope.

A Passport to Peace

Healing is like travel. You leave behind what’s familiar—sometimes painful—and journey toward something new, maybe even better. For me, this Mother’s Day isn’t about flowers or brunch. It’s about boarding a plane to Jamaica and finally giving myself permission to live, breathe, and be. I plan to write more during my trip as a gift to myself, and thought to share why I chose me this year, how it connects to my mental health journey, and why it might just be the boldest, most beautiful thing I've ever done.

1. Why I Chose Me This Mother’s Day

For as long as I can remember, Mother’s Day has felt… heavy. Not in the way that a warm hug wraps around your shoulders, but in the way grief does—silent, weighty, and unresolved. Growing up, it was hard to fully celebrate my own mother. Our relationship was layered with complexities that were hard to untangle, even as an adult. That made Mother’s Day feel more like a reminder of what was broken than a celebration of what was whole.

Me, my mother, and my daughter—three generations, one photo, countless layers. This image holds both love and longing, complexity and connection.

Then came motherhood. I poured everything I had into my children—the sleepless nights, the prayers, the patience, the sacrifices that no one sees but every mother feels in her bones. I believed, deep down, that one day all that love would come full circle. I imagined heartfelt gestures, words of gratitude, maybe even a moment of acknowledgment that mirrored the Psalms 31 affirmation: “Her children arise and call her blessed.” I waited. But that moment never quite arrived.

Even as my children grew into adulthood, that longing didn’t go away. In its place came quiet realizations. Subtle disappointments. And while I appreciated past Mother's Day acknowledgements—I truly did—my heart ached for something more intentional, more extravagant, more reflective of the years I had given.

This year, the ache turned into action. I woke up and realized I don’t have to keep waiting for someone else to create the celebration I’ve been craving. I can give it to myself. And so, I did something radical. I chose me.

I booked the trip. Not just to a place, but to a mindset—a destination where my joy, my rest, and my healing are the only items on the itinerary. I decided to make Montego Bay my altar of restoration, where I honor the woman who made it through everything—loss, longing, love, and letting go—and still shows up with grace.

This is the first in a new series called Montego Bay Meditations—reflections I’ve been gathering during this solo getaway. It’s not just about the trip; it’s about what the quiet revealed. These aren’t polished lessons—they’re real moments of reckoning around motherhood, healing, and learning to care for myself the way I’ve always cared for others. I’m not here to give advice. I’m just sharing what’s been rising up, in case it resonates with anyone else trying to make peace with their own story.

Practical Tip: This Mother’s Day, write a letter to yourself. List the things you’ve overcome, the people you’ve nurtured, the dreams you’ve kept alive. Read it aloud. Feel it. Let that be your celebration.

"Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you." - Anne Lamott

2. Motherhood Isn’t Always a Celebration

For many, Mother’s Day is a highlight. For others, it’s a highlighter—one that sharply outlines all the unresolved emotions, unspoken grief, and unseen labor of motherhood. I’ve often found myself in all of these groups, navigating a tangle of emotions this holiday brings.

Growing up, my own relationship with my mother was fraught, layered with dysfunction and silence where there should have been warmth and understanding. It shaped how I entered motherhood—eager to rewrite the narrative, hopeful to give and receive something more nourishing. But even with the best intentions, the story doesn’t always unfold the way we envision.

To complicate things further, I’ve often had to share my Mother’s Day with a birthday in the family—my oldest child. While that shared celebration started as a joy, over time it blurred the line between honoring my role as a mother and supporting someone else’s special day. Year after year, I felt myself fading into the background, my sacrifices acknowledged in passing.

I kept hoping things would evolve as my children became adults, but change came slowly, if at all. The emotional hunger persisted—not for gifts, but for recognition. For presence. For intentionality. For the kind of celebration that says, I see you.

And that’s when I realized—I do see me. And I have the power to honor myself in the ways that matter.

Practical Tip: If Mother’s Day brings pain, try reframing it. Plan a ritual that speaks directly to you—a solo walk, a handwritten reflection, a morning playlist that makes you feel alive.

"Mother's day is a beautiful idea -

until it becomes a magnifying glass on everything you've lost or never had." -Anonymous

3. The Groove That I’m Getting Back

When I say I’m getting my groove back, I’m not talking about a fling or fleeting thrill. I’m talking about something deeper—reclaiming parts of me that I silenced, dimmed, or tucked away so others could shine. I’m talking about joy that doesn’t require explanation. Rest that doesn’t feel like rebellion. Peace that isn’t performative.

Watching the movie based on a book written by Terry McMillan, How Stella Got Her Groove Back, gave me the spark, but what I’m chasing isn’t a romantic storyline—it’s a soul story. My groove is about freedom. It's about living on my own terms, guided by what lights me up instead of what’s expected. Montego Bay symbolizes that for me. I imagine barefoot mornings, ocean air wrapping around me like a blessing, and a voice inside whispering, “You’re allowed to feel good.”

Practical Tip: Reconnect with your joy. Try dancing alone, traveling solo, unplugging completely. Even five minutes of “just you” time is sacred.

"The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in service of yourself." - Inspired by Gandhi

4. Mental Health & Mother Wounds: Reclaiming Peace and Power

May is both Mental Health Awareness Month and the month we celebrate mothers. But not all of us have joyful associations with either. Some wounds are inherited, and the mother-daughter bond—when strained—can leave scars that linger long after childhood.

My relationship with my mother shaped me in ways I’m still unpacking. In my book Eve's Exodus, I talk about the spiritual departure I had to make to preserve my mental health—to choose peace over proximity and reclaim my power. Walking away wasn’t the absence of love, but a radical act of self-respect. That decision opened the door to my healing journey.

Bringing this book back into the light this Mother’s Day feels right. It’s a reminder that honoring your mental health doesn’t make you disloyal—it makes you whole.

Practical Tip: If your mental health feels tied to your mother relationship, give yourself space to explore that honestly. Therapy, writing, and guided meditation can be powerful tools.

"It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick relationship." - J. Krishnamurti

This Mother’s Day, I Mother Me

This year, I chose a different kind of celebration. One not reliant on cards, calls, or outward affirmations. I chose a sacred, sun-soaked getaway as an offering to myself. I chose to mother the most important person in my life—me.

Motherhood, at its essence, is creation. It’s care. It’s holding space for something or someone to grow. This Mother’s Day, I’m holding that space for myself. I’m celebrating not just the lives I’ve brought into the world, but the emotional and spiritual world I continue to build around me—one filled with intentionality, softness, and strength.

To anyone else who feels unseen, unheard, or unappreciated this Mother’s Day: take your power back. Whether it’s a trip, a journal, a nap, or just a quiet refusal to people-please—choose you.

You are worth the love you long for. And when you stop waiting for it and start giving it to yourself? That’s when the real groove returns.

Written by Carlita L. Coley, LPC

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About the Author

Carlita Coley is a writer and mental health advocate whose work explores the beauty and complexity of the human experience. This blog was written as both a personal testimony and a mirror for others navigating the emotional layers of motherhood, identity, and mental health. She believes in honoring your own voice, and choosing yourself—especially when the world forgets to.